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An Artist’s Notebook of Sorts

Last Weak  |  Index  |  Next Weak

Weak XXIII

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5 June 2013

gratuitous image

No. 991 (cartoon)

We keep repeating the same mistakes.

Practice makes perfect!

6 June 2013

Leavenworth Penitentiary

Byron told me that no one’s ever successfully escaped from Leavenworth Penitentiary in Kansas.

I shrugged.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I meant by ‘successfully’?” Byron asked.

I obligingly took the bait and asked.

“Seven guys have actually made it past the perimeter since the place opened since 1874,” he reported, “but they were all dead within a week.”

“Tracked down and killed?” I suggested.

“Nope,” Byron replied, “they all died of boredom.”

Ah, Kansas jokes never fail to please.

7 June 2013

AOADS

My doctor said the results of my physical were fine except for one thing: an incurable affliction. I have AOADS.

There’s no cure for AOADS. On the bright side, its effects are not at all deleterious if I follow a simple treatment. My doctor explained that all I needed to do was to drink more to keep Adult Onset Alcohol Deficiency Syndrome at bay.

Patient, heal thyself. I’ll drink to that!

8 June 2013

Furry Xenophobia

A very large bee flew in through my studio window yesterday morning. I’d describe it as furry, except bees don’t have fur. It might have been a bumblebee, surely some member of Apidae family. It circled around and around for what seemed like a few minutes before finally buzzing back outside.

That had never happened before, but then it happened again this morning. I was terrorized, so headed out for more coffee and shut the studio door behind me. I couldn’t figure out why I was so afraid, since I’ve never been stung.

After a while, I concluded I was afraid precisely because I’d never been stung. A simple case of xenophobia.

9 June 2013

gratuitous image

Gratuitous Photo of the Weak: David’s Broth

I went over to Cecelia’s tonight for dinner and got a surprise: leftovers. And not just any leftovers, surplus broth I’d cooked when I last visited her a couple of months ago.

The plastic container labeled “David’s broth” gave me an idea. Cremation wastes a lot of protein. Perhaps when I reach my expiration date, my friends will make David stew for my wake; that would allow everyone to go home with a full stomach, a cheap wine headache, and a jar of David’s broth.

10 June 2013

How Antoinette Got Here

Cedric’s daughter Antoinette came home from her biology class with a riddle.

“The largest cell in the female body is the egg and the smallest cell in the male body is the sperm,” she announced. “So what’s the smallest cell in the female body?”

Cedric obligingly shrugged; how could he possibly know what’s taught in a thirteen-year-old’s science class?

“Sperm!” she giggled, “That’s how I got here!”

I’ve never regretted not having children.

Stare.

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©2013 David Glenn Rinehart

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